


Under the Big Top

by Titch360



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 14:18:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7536145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titch360/pseuds/Titch360
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years later, Dick comes face to face with his past as the circus returns to Gotham City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Big Top

Under the Big Top

 

It was Friday morning, and Bruce was awake, alert, and dressed by 7:00am.  Alfred was surprised to see the man before 10:00am, his usual time to dash through and grab a cup of coffee before running off to the office.  Alfred always made breakfast in the morning for himself and Dick, and occasionally made extra just in case Bruce couldn’t sleep.  He was expecting the boy any minute, but was glad to have a few minutes alone with his oldest charge.

“Good morning, Master Bruce.  What may I attribute to such an early appearance today?” the butler asked pleasantly.

“Was able to get to sleep earlier last night; no patrol, remember?” Bruce smiled at the older man and accepted a cup of coffee gratefully.  The last time Bruce had been awake this early, he had been chasing the Penguin through the Gotham Zoo.  That time had not been an ‘early awake’ situation, more like a ‘still awake’ situation, but he had been awake, and that counted.  “Besides, I have an early meeting today.  You remember Lucius Fox, Alfred?”  The old man nodded.  “Today is his first day as Vice President of Operations and we are having a meeting to get him up to speed.”

“You finally approved the promotion.  Mr. Fox must be so pleased.”  Alfred remembered the man, a pleasant man with a good head for business.

“Of course.  Lucius has earned it.  Spent years as the head of R&D, and never a cost overrun on his watch.  I think he can work wonders in streamlining the operations of the whole company.  When the President’s job opens up next year, after Bill retires, it goes to Lucius.  Besides, Lucius Fox was one of the first employees my father hired when he took over Wayne Enterprises.  He has worked there longer than I have.”

Alfred smiled, seeing a hint of Thomas Wayne shine through Bruce that does not appear often.  Bruce had been so young when they died, it warmed Alfred’s heart to see that his father had rubbed off on to Bruce.

Alfred set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of Bruce as the sounds of a small stampede heralded the arrival of young Master Dick to the kitchen.  “Hiya, Alfred!  Hiya, Bruce!”  The boy with the perpetual smile jumped into his usual chair and dug into a large bowl of cereal.  “Bruce, why didn’t you wake me up for patrol last night?  I would have gone with you.”

Bruce smiled at the little ball of energy.  “I didn’t wake you because I didn’t go on patrol last night either.  I guess we deserve one night off every once in a while, right chum?  Besides, you didn’t even make it through the movie last night; and it was a school night.  Which reminds me, shouldn’t you be leaving for school soon?”

Bruce knew very well that Dick had at least another twenty minutes before Alfred would corral him into the car and drive him to school, but the boy always needed reminders to hurry up.  The phone rang and Alfred left to answer it in the hallway.

“Yeah, I still have a few minutes.  Hey Bruce, guess what I figured out last night?”  He didn’t give the older man a chance to answer before barreling ahead.  “Monday will be the two year anniversary of when I came to live here!  We should do something to celebrate!”

Two years.  _If Monday is two years of him coming to live with us, then that means that tomorrow is…_   Bruce didn’t want to complete that thought.  Saturday would mark the two year anniversary of the death of John and Mary Grayson.  Bruce looked at the boy, a bit sad, and wondered if the boy was thinking what the anniversary really meant.  “If you want to do something to celebrate, chum, then we will.  In fact, whatever you want to do this weekend, we’ll do.  You get to make all the plans this weekend.”  _Any way I can help you through this, little buddy._

Dick’s blue eyes widened, “Anything I want to do?  Thanks, Bruce.  You’re the best!”  The young acrobat jumped out of his chair and gave Bruce a big hug before running upstairs to finish getting ready for school.

Alfred entered the kitchen as Dick was running out.  Alfred stopped the boy and whispered, “Master Bruce didn’t make it through the movie, either.”  Dick ran off smiling while Alfred turned to Bruce and said, “Master Bruce, telephone for you.  It’s Commissioner Gordon of the Gotham Police Department.”

Bruce remembered the kind, worn face of the older man and said, “Did he say what he wants?”

“Just to speak to you sir.  Said it was a delicate matter for you to take care of.”

Bruce was instantly suspicious.  _Did Gordon figure out that I’m Batman?  Impossible, how could he?  I don’t leave any clues!_   Bruce walked into the hallway and picked up the receiver.  “Good morning, this is Bruce Wayne.”

“Good morning Mr. Wayne, I hope I didn’t wake you.  This is Police Commissioner Gordon.  I wanted to talk to you about something I saw this morning.  Tell me, Mr. Wayne, have you seen the paper yet today?”

“Please, call me Bruce.  No, I haven’t seen it yet.  I have it delivered to the office and I usually read it over lunch.  What’s going on, Commissioner?”

“Call me Jim, please.  It concerns the boy…”

“Dick?  What did he do that could have made the paper?”

“Nothing, Mr.…Bruce.  When you read the paper today, turn to the back page, you can’t miss it.  Haly’s Circus is coming back to town, starting this weekend and running through next Friday.  It is the first time since…Well, it’s the first time in two years.  I just thought you would like to know, so you could prepare the boy, or shelter him from it, whatever you want to do.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Jim.  Wow, I don’t even know how to approach that one.  You have kids, right?”

“I have a daughter, Barbara.  Actually, she should be about Dick’s age now, I guess.”

Bruce sighed.  “I’m still new to this ‘parenting’ thing.  How would you suggest I handle this?”  Bruce knew he wasn’t the boy’s parent, but sometimes he felt like more than a guardian to the boy.  Dick had wormed his way into Bruce’s heart, and he hated to see him in pain.  He knew this would cause pain, and any help he could get would be greatly appreciated.

“Well, Bruce, I think I would let him know what’s going on and decide what happens next based on his reaction.  You know the kid better than I do, how do you think he will react?”  Jim hoped no one ever had to have the same conversation with his daughter.  Unconsciously, he tightened the straps on his bullet-proof vest.

“That’s just it, I don’t know.  I’ll talk to him tonight, after school, see what happens.  Thanks for letting me know, Jim.  I would have hated to have been blindsided by this.”

“Of course, Bruce.  I have seen how you care for that boy, at least what the media shows.  I think you are doing all right.”

“Thank you, Jim.  Good bye.”

“Good bye, Mr. Wayne…Bruce.”

Bruce hung up the phone and returned to the kitchen with a worried look on his face.  Alfred called him on it immediately.  “Tell me, sir: Is the cave shutting down for good?”

“Huh?  No, Alfred.  This is potentially worse.  He called to let me know that Haly’s Circus is coming back to town this weekend.  Wanted us to know before Dick did.”

Alfred was silent for a minute, thinking of how this would affect the boy.  “He is a good man for calling; a real friend, that Commissioner Gordon.”

“He is, Alfred.  Remind me to write a bigger check to the Widows and Orphans fund this year”

“Of course, sir.  I need to be off, sir.  Master Dick mustn’t be late for school.”  Alfred picked the car keys from the drawer, only to have Bruce grab them from the butler.

“I’ll take him today, Alfred.  It’s on my way to the office, and I need to get to that meeting.”  Bruce turned towards the door of the kitchen and called out, “Dick, let’s go!  It’s time for school!”

The young boy was already sliding down the bannister as Bruce called to him.  “I’m ready to go, Alfred!” the boy called back.

“No Alfred today, chum.  I have to get to a meeting early today, so I’m taking you.”  Bruce smiled down at the boy, who returned the smile and made to follow Bruce out of the house.  The boy ran back in to the house and Bruce saw him give Alfred a quick hug before returning to Bruce’s side.  Bruce held the boy to his side while walking down the front steps and into the car.  He dropped Dick at school ten minutes later and was in the office by 8:15.  He gave himself plenty of time before his 10:00 meeting so he could read the paper and see this ad for the circus.

The office staff had to scramble to get back to work as Bruce walked in.  The CEO was rarely in the office this early, and never without calling first.  Bruce smiled to himself at the reaction, greeted Jean, his secretary, and walked into his office.  Before he even had a chance to sit down at his desk, Jean brought in the morning paper, a cup of coffee, and his daily schedule.  The only thing of any major importance today was the meeting with Lucius at ten.  Jean left the office with her usual grace and efficiency.  Bruce counted how long it would take for her to get back to her desk and threw his office door open just short of his mental count.  He was right, she was just sitting down when she heard the door open, causing her to shoot back into a standing position, startled.  Bruce smiled at the reaction, and Jean smiled back.  One of the things she liked about working for Mr. Wayne was that he could have a sense of humor when he wanted to.  She attributed it to that adorable boy he had taken in.  Bruce had been a different man after the arrival of Dick Grayson into his life.

“Jean, the schedule looks pretty light today, and it is Friday.  Why don’t you and the rest of the office staff take off after lunch?  Start your weekends a little early?”  Bruce noticed that the other office staff were now giving Bruce their full and undivided attention.  “And while you’re all at it, take Monday off as well.  I am making it a long weekend; I have a few things to take care of at home, and I’m sure we could all use the break.  Of course, since this is unannounced and on short notice, you will all be paid your normal wages for a full day today and Monday, and I wouldn’t think of making anyone use their Paid Time Off for this, so it will be our little secret.”  Bruce smiled at the office workers as a chorus of ‘Thank you’ echoed in the office. 

Jean walked over to Bruce and opened her mouth to say something, but Bruce cut her off, “Jean, are we going to have the same argument every time I tell you to take a day off with pay without using PTO?  When the boss says take the day off with pay, just take the day off with pay.”

The woman smiled, “No, sir.  Thank you for the extra time off.  I just wanted to check and see if everything is okay at home.  It’s not like you to use home life as an excuse not to come to work.”

“Jean, come in here, please.”  The secretary followed Bruce into the office, closed the door behind her, and sat down in the offered chair across the desk from Bruce.  Bruce opened the paper, flipped it over to the back page and showed her the full-page advertisement for the week-long run of Haly’s Circus at the Gotham Festival Grounds.  “You see that?  Haly’s Circus is coming back to Gotham for the first time in two years.  Do you remember what happened the last time the circus was in town?”

Jean looked confused for a moment, then gasped as she remembered how a night at the circus for a charity fundraiser had ended in double murder and a young orphan taking residence with Bruce.  “That was _his_ circus, wasn’t it?  Does he know?”

Bruce ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation, “No, and I have no idea how to tell him.  Or, how to help him after I tell him.  I’m still not good at this ‘parent’ thing, Jean.”

She smiled at her boss, “Don’t sell yourself short.  That boy thinks the world of you.  And besides,” she picked up a framed picture of Dick from the desk and held it up to Bruce, “I think you are better at it than you allow yourself to believe.  A boy doesn’t smile like that after his parents are murdered in front of him unless he has some great people around him.”

Bruce smiled at the woman, “Thank you.  It still won’t be easy.”

“No, Mr. Wayne, it won’t.  You just do whatever put that kind of smile on the boy’s face, and you’ll get through it.”  She checked her watch, 9:00.  “Your meeting with Lucius Fox is in one hour, do you need anything before the meeting?”

Bruce smiled gratefully at Jean.  She had been a great companion over the years he had employed her.  “Thank you, Jean, no.  Just give me a fifteen minute notice before the meeting, okay?”

She left the office with a smile and a, “Yes sir, Mr. Wayne.”  Bruce read the ad again, then turned to the agenda of the meeting.

_Later…_

Bruce sat alone in his office, reading Lucius’ proposal to the board.  The meeting was supposed to get Lucius ready for the new position, but Lucius had spent weeks studying and was ready to hit the ground running.  He wanted to organize a green energy division in Wayne Enterprises, and had drawn up a business plan.  It looked good so far, and Bruce was seriously considering approving the measure.  The office staff had left at noon, and Bruce was really just wasting time until he could go pick up Dick from school.  He still had no idea what to say to the boy, but at least he felt he could have the conversation now. 

His office phone rang.  Bruce ignored it for a minute, idly wondering why Jean hadn’t answered it, then grabbed the phone before it could go to voicemail.  _Oh yeah, I let them go home early_.  Alfred was on the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry to bother you at work, sir.  There has just been a phone call from Master Dick’s school.  It seems he is in the nurse’s office and they are asking if we can pick him up.”

Bruce sat up, concerned, “Did he hurt himself?  Is he sick?  Is he okay?”

“They didn’t say, sir.  Since you did say you would pick him up today, would you be able to get him now, or shall I?”

“I’m on my way, Alfred.  I hope he’s okay.  Be ready for us please, Alfred?  I will be back as soon as possible.”  Bruce hung up the phone, grabbed his jacket, and used his personal elevator for fast access to the garage.  Bruce almost never used the personal elevator, he always felt it took him farther away from his employees.  He liked being a more ‘hands-on’ boss.  However, today, he was glad the option was there.  Within minutes, he was pulling out of the parking lot and making for the school.

In record time, Bruce pulled into the parking lot of the Warrington school, the same school Bruce had attended as a boy.  He rushed into the office and asked for the nurse.  He was shown in, but stopped at the door.  There, laying on a low cot, was Dick.  He was curled up and facing away from the door.  At first, Bruce thought he was asleep, until the boy sniffed and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt.

The nurse pulled Bruce aside.  “He’s been like that for an hour now.  His teacher said he started crying in class and they couldn’t get him to stop.  He hasn’t said anything, and his teacher said nothing was happening that could have triggered this.  We are at a loss, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce wasn’t at a loss, but he wondered which trigger had set off the child.  Two came to mind, but he wouldn’t know until Dick talked to him.  Bruce spoke in a whispered tone to the matronly nurse, “Tomorrow is the anniversary of his parent’s death.  I think that might have something to do with it.  We were talking about it this morning, but he wasn’t having any problems with it then.  I never would have brought him to school today if I knew it was going to hit him like this.”

The nurse looked on Dick with compassion in her eyes.  She nodded to Bruce and said, “I will let his teacher know; he just feels terrible.  Dick is such a likable boy.”  She walked away and left Bruce alone.

Bruce sat down on the edge of the cot and placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder.  The boy stiffened and sniffled again.  No tears came, Dick was all cried out, but still inconsolable.

Bruce sat there, stroking the boy’s shoulder and arm, until Dick turned over onto his back and looked at Bruce for the first time.  Bruce whispered, “Hey, chum.  You want to talk about it?”

Dick sat up and hugged Bruce, his small arms clinging to Bruce’s neck as if he would sink if he let go.  Bruce held the boy gently and remembered what Jim had advised this morning.  _Just let the boy lead the discussion, he will let you know everything in time._   A few minutes later, it appeared the younger had no intention of letting go of the elder, so Bruce stood up, Dick still clinging to his neck.  He cradled his ward, _son?_ , signed him out of school, and walked out of the building.

As he put Dick in the car and buckled him in, Bruce began to wonder when he had started thinking of Dick as his son instead of his ward.  As far as Bruce was concerned, Richard Grayson was his son.  He didn’t need a paper from the court or a blood test to tell him what his heart yelled to him every night.  He would do anything for that boy, and right now, that boy needed a father.  Bruce was determined to fulfill the role to the best of his ability.

They drove home in silence.  Bruce parked in the garage and opened the door for Dick to get out of the car.  He expected the boy to run off, as he usually did, to the kitchen for an after-school snack.  Today, Dick just got out of the car and walked with Bruce.  They went three steps before Dick grabbed Bruce’s large hand with his smaller one.  The boy still hadn’t said a word.  Bruce’s heart broke for the obvious pain that he was in.

The pair walked into the kitchen, where Alfred was waiting.  He greeted the child and offered a snack if he was hungry.  Dick clung to Bruce’s hand, but said hello to Alfred.

The tone of voice in the one word shattered what was left of Bruce’s broken heart.  It was the same tone of voice Dick had when he first came to live at the manor.  It was about as dead-sounding as any ten-year-old boy had ever sounded.  Bruce cringed at the sound.  Alfred looked horrified; he remembered the sound as well, and how long it had taken for the orphan to lose it.  _What could have possibly brought this back?_ Alfred thought.

Bruce mouthed ‘ _What do I do?’_ To Alfred.  Alfred mouthed back ‘ _Upstairs’_ to Bruce.  Dick had looked down after greeting Alfred and was currently staring at his shoes.  He hadn’t seen the unspoken communication.  Bruce shrugged with the one shoulder not attached to the hand Dick held, then knelt down and picked up the small boy to take him upstairs.  He took the boy to his room and sat down on the boy’s bed.  Dick had returned his arms to Bruce’s neck.  He seemed content to just be held, and Bruce decided to wait again.  While waiting, he thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try to comfort the boy.  So Bruce began to rock the boy and rub his back, whispering that whatever was going on, Bruce would help him through it.

It worked, the boy’s grip on his neck loosened as he started to fall asleep.  As Bruce laid him under the covers, Dick whispered, “Thanks, dad.”

Bruce wasn’t sure he heard him correctly.  _Did he just call me dad?_   His charge was asleep now, and Bruce wasn’t about to wake him to find out.  He took a chair and sat beside the bed, determined to be there when Dick woke up.

Alfred, standing unseen at the door, was sure he had heard the young boy correctly.  He wondered when Dick had begun to think of Bruce as his father.  He smiled to himself as he watched Bruce lightly run his fingers through the child’s hair.  _Even if Master Bruce doesn’t think he can do it, he is doing just fine at parenting._

Bruce looked up and saw Alfred standing at the door.  He didn’t know how long the old butler was standing there, but he assumed it was long enough to ask his questions.

“Did you…”

“Yes”

“Did he…”

“Yes”

“Am I…”

“That is up to you, sir.”

“Can I possibly…”

“Yes”

“Are you ever going to let me finish a sentence?”

“Other than that one, probably not, sir”

Bruce smiled as the man he regarded as his grandfather walked away, leaving the potential father and son to work it out.

_Later…_

Bruce awoke some time later, slumped over in the chair next to Dick’s bed.  He straightened up and stretched, muscle and bone crackling and popping as he adjusted out of his question mark position.  Glancing down, Bruce noticed Dick squirming, tossing and turning in bed as he endured the nightmare he was obviously having.  The boy began mumbling in his sleep, reminding Bruce where this started.

“No…Don’t go…Mom…Dad…Please…Stay with me…No…Come back…Please…NO!”

The boy sat upright in bed with a shout, head swiveling, and eyes wide without really seeing anything.  He took a deep breath, finally seeing the surroundings of his room at Wayne Manor, which now included the concerned-looking Bruce.  He pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and placed his chin on his knees, head pointed straight ahead while his eyes glanced at Bruce.

“I had the same dream again,” the scared boy whispered, “The same one I used to have right after…”  The young boy trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut at the memories.

“Right after your parents died.  Why now, Dick?  What happened?  Talk to me, chum.”  Bruce scooted the chair closer to the bed so Dick could speak softly while still being heard.

Dick pulled out a slightly crumpled slip of paper, the same one Bruce had seen the boy curled around on the cot in the nurse’s office at the school.  He handed it to Bruce while offering his explanation.  “Mr. Bridger, my teacher, went to Gotham Burger for dinner last night.  They were passing those out.  He took a stack and handed them out to all of us today as a treat.  I guess he thought it would be fun.  I read it and…I couldn’t breathe.  The next thing I knew, you were picking me up and bringing me home.”

Bruce turned over the glossy slip of paper in his hands and gasped.  It was a two dollar off coupon for admission to Haly’s Circus.  The jolly visage of Mr. Haly smiled from the sheet, waving an invitation to come and see the sights and take in the show.  Bruce now completely understood Dick’s reaction.  He got up, sat on the bed, and pulled Dick close.  Dick was still curled up, with his arms wrapped around his legs, but he melted into Bruce’s side as the man held him.

“I know they still perform; there’s no reason they shouldn’t.  I’m glad they still tour.  I’m glad they came back to Gotham.  I’m happy to see Mr. Haly looking the same as two years ago.  But why did they have to come back now?  Why start tomorrow, on the anniversary of…”  Dick couldn’t say it, the thought hurt too much.

The boy was rambling, trying to fill the awkward silence.  “It’s okay, Dick.  You can say it.  You can say that they are gone, that they are dead.”  Dick shook his head, then buried it in his arms.  “Yes, you can.  It will help you, I know it will.  When my parents were killed, it took me a long time to accept they were gone, but saying it helped.  It helped make it real, and I could start to move on.”

Dick’s head shot up and he glared at Bruce, eyes bright with unshed tears.  “I don’t want to move on.  I can’t.  I…miss them so much.  If I say they’re…they’re gone, then they will be.  I can still…I don’t…They…”  The boy trailed off as he threw his arms around Bruce and began sobbing again.  “Why did they have to die?  How could they leave me alone?  Why does this still hurt so much, after two years?”

The older man sat holding the lost boy, wondering where to start.  “Oh, Dick.  My boy, you’re not alone.  You’re not alone.  I can’t replace your parents, but I won’t leave you alone.  I can’t explain why they had to die, there is no explanation that will make anything better.  But never think that you are alone.”

“I feel alone.  I don’t know what to do, Bruce.  Why does it hurt so much?”

Bruce sighed, “Because you love them.  You love them and you will always love them.  They are your parents, nothing can change that.  It’s supposed to hurt when you lose someone you love, especially when you are only eight years old when it happens.  The hurt will fade, but the memories will never go away.”

“When, Bruce?  I want to stop hurting _now_.  When does it go away?”

“A long time.  Probably, after you have had several more days like today.”

“When did you stop hurting?”

Bruce had hoped Dick wouldn’t ask that question.  Bruce had never stopped hurting, some days were just better than others.  With time, he was able to function as the productive member of society he was today, but it was always there.  Bruce just had to figure out how to explain that without crushing Dick.

“Bruce?”  The young boy looked up at his face to see a far off look.

The older man looked back and gave Dick a soft smile before whispering, “It doesn’t stop, but it gets better.  I guess I never stopped hurting completely.  Probably not what you wanted to hear, is it?  I don’t have all the answers, but I’m here for you, whenever you need me.”

Dick snuggled tighter into Bruce’s side.  After a while, he said, “You were there the night my parents died.  You saw what happened.  You never told me what happened to your parents.”

Bruce thought about it for a moment.  “No, I never did.  How about this: tonight, on patrol, I’ll show you.”

Dick was confused.  _Show me?_   He decided to go along with it.  “Okay.  I still get to choose what we do this weekend, right Bruce?”

“Of course, pal.  Make sure your plans include Monday, too.  We do need to celebrate that, after all, and you’re not going to school on Monday, unless you want to.”

Dick smiled slightly, “Okay, tonight you show me.  Tomorrow, I want to use that coupon.”

Bruce looked back at the coupon and nodded, thinking how brave his little man was for wanting to face this head-on.  Bruce nudged Dick and said, “Let’s go get something to eat before patrol.”

The two got up, Dick a little unsteady after the roller coaster of emotions the day had brought.  They walked downstairs and into the kitchen, where Alfred was preparing dinner.  He smiled at seeing the young man up and around.  He figured Dick would be down for the night.  He had passed by when both were asleep and heard the boy struggling with a nightmare.  Neither Dick nor Bruce looked particularly happy, but both had a determination about them.

While waiting for dinner, Dick went off to use the restroom.  Alfred took the moment to ask for an update.  Bruce explained about the coupon for the circus and how Dick had an anxiety attack while in class.  It was something that hadn’t been expected by either of the adults in the manor, and they both felt bad for not preparing the boy for this possibility.

“He has always seemed so strong, Alfred.  How could we not have prepared him for this?”

Alfred sighed, “Because you have not wanted to face your own parent’s death.”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe, sir, that deep down you knew talking to him about his parents would lead to talking about your own parents.  That has never been a topic you have discussed willingly.”

Bruce sighed, “I know, Alfred.  Tonight, I plan on telling him everything.  I’m going to take him to Crime Alley and show him where my life changed.”

“That is exactly my point, sir.  You still are not talking about it.  Batman will be telling Robin.  Is Bruce Wayne ever planning to talk to Richard Grayson about the effect of the occurrence on the young boy, who was suddenly left alone?”

Bruce thought long about this, but didn’t respond.  Dick had a right to know, but how could he do that without collapsing, as Dick had today?  He didn’t get a chance to respond, as Dick returned to the kitchen and sat down in his usual chair.  Alfred smiled at the boy and set a plate of food before him.  He moved to dig in, then stopped to wait for Bruce to be served.  Bruce smiled, silently thanking Alfred for constantly reminding Dick about remembering his manners.  Bruce began to eat, but noticed Dick still hadn’t started.

“Are you going to join us, Alfred?  Please?”  Dick asked the butler quietly.  Alfred usually didn’t join them, but Bruce nodded, encouraging the old man to go ahead.  Alfred made a plate for himself and sat uncomfortably with his charges.  Only after Alfred sat down did Dick start eating, with a smile.  _Now, we’re just like a family_ Dick thought.

_That night…_

Batman and Robin swooped down Crime Alley on their Bat-lines.  It had been a quiet night, and Robin had twice said he was bored.  _How can a child get bored when out with Batman?_ Bruce thought to himself.  Robin had begun fidgeting while Batman was observing a suspect, and he thought he had put it off long enough.  The Dynamic Duo landed in front of the old Palace Theater, a broken down wreck of a formerly gloriously opulent movie house.  Robin began looking for the next suspect, but Batman just stood and looked at the decaying edifice.

“What are we looking for here, Batman?” The boy asked curiously.

Batman was glad that the young crime fighter’s voice had returned to its normal pitch and tone so quickly.  “The past, Robin, we’re looking for the past.  You see, this is where the Bat was born.”

Batman walked to the door of the theater, broken glass crunching under foot.  Robin followed silently, hanging on every word that was to follow.

“Alfred wasn’t with us, that night.  Dad told him to take the night off, since we were going to be out all night.  Dad drove us himself to a screening of ‘The Mark of Zorro’.  Dad loved all of those black and white, swashbuckling adventure movies; Zorro, Captain Blood, Robin Hood.  He would drag me to see anything with Errol Flynn or Douglas Fairbanks.  Don’t get me wrong, I liked them, too, but those nights were for him.”

Batman and Robin walked from the doors and towards an alley off to the left of the theater.  “We got out of the movie late, and walked to this alley.  Dad had parked the car behind the theater.  We were halfway down the alley when he stepped out from the shadow.  Some goon, some creep with a gun.  Joe Chill, we found out later.  In reality, he wasn’t much bigger than Alfred, but that night he looked ten-feet tall and as wide as a linebacker.  He pointed the gun at Dad and demanded his money and jewelry.  My Dad took two steps forward, looked that jerk in the eye, and handed over his wallet, telling the mugger to leave me and Mom alone.  The jerk shook the gun at Dad’s wrist.  Dad took off his gold watch, the one my grandfather had given him for graduating from Medical School, and handed it over, begging the man not to hurt me or my Mom.  It looked like he was just going to leave, but he grabbed for the pearl necklace my Mom was wearing, the one Dad gave her for their anniversary.  She screamed, he slapped her, Dad approached him, and Joe Chill shot him in the chest, killing him instantly.  Mom screamed again, and she was shot, too.  He pointed the gun at me next, and I froze; I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t do anything.  I will never forget his words as he pointed the gun right between my eyes, ‘You ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight, kid?’  He then put the gun back in his coat pocket and walked out of the alley like nothing had happened.  I had been so weak.  I let him kill my parents, and then just walk away.  I honestly don’t remember what happened after that, except that I woke up at home the next day and Alfred was crying and telling me that they were dead.”

Robin had taken Batman’s hand as they walked down the alley, feeling the man needed some sort of comfort as he told his story.  Either Batman didn’t notice, or didn’t care, because he allowed it.  On any normal night patrol, such familiarity, even between Batman and Robin, was not allowed.

“I swore that I would never be weak again.  I began training to rid this city of crime, and I have been working on it ever since.  That is what happened to me,” the two stopped in the middle of the alley, on the spot where his parents had lain dead so many years ago, “And this is the spot where it happened.”

Robin shivered as the story wound to a close.  He could feel Batman’s cold energy surrounding him as he took in the spot that bore the Bat unto Gotham.  He had no words, nothing to say to the man that would change anything.

Batman kneeled before the young crime fighter.  “Now do you see, Robin?  Do you see why I felt a connection to you two years ago?  Why I wanted you to come live with me after your parents were taken from you?  I wanted to help you not become me.  I wanted you to adjust better to your loss than I did to mine.  Up until today, I thought you had, but I’m glad I was wrong.  If today had never happened, we never would have had this conversation, and the tension of your loss would have continued to grow.  I know it still hurts, and you are still feeling lost and confused, but you are handling it much better than anyone could ever expect.  You are still able to smile.  Do you know how huge that is?  And, what’s more, I’m proud of you.  You make me proud every day, but today more than most.  You faced your inner self, and you can use it to draw strength.  I will help you with that.  It won’t be easy, but we can do it, together.”

A tear slipped from under Robin’s mask.  _He’s proud of me.  He’s never said that before._   The young man in the scaly shorts smiled at the older man in the pointy hat and risked a small hug.  Batman allowed it, but quickly stood up again.

Batman took a deep breath before saying, “Well, Robin, it’s getting late.  What is next on your weekend plan?”

Robin took out his Grapnel gun and pointed it towards the Gotham skyline.  “Let’s go fight some crime.”

_The Next Morning…um, Afternoon_

Bruce awoke to the late morning sun streaming in through his window.  It had been a long patrol the previous night, but Bruce didn’t feel tired as he walked towards the kitchen for a cup of coffee.  He passed Dick’s room on the way, and could hear the boy’s voice in the room.  Bruce stuck his head in to greet him, and gasped in shock.  Dick was still in bed, asleep, thrashing about in a nightmare.  He mumbled for his parents not to leave him, fruitlessly tried warning the images in his mind that the lines were about to snap, screamed out as the dream parents fell to their eventual death, leaving him standing on the platform, alone.  He sat bolt upright again, noticing with embarrassment that Bruce stood at the door, watching him.  Bruce came in and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Want to talk about it, chum?”

“Why do I still have the dreams?  I thought it would be better after last night, but it was worse.  It’s like, they couldn’t hear me.  I try to warn them, but they just go off, like they did that night.”

Bruce kissed the top of the boy’s head and said, “Tell me, what would be worse: Having your nightmare and watching your parents fall to their death in your dream?  Or, being able to stop them, prevent their death in your dream, only to wake up and find out it was just a dream, and they are still dead?”

Dick didn’t answer, but he thought about the question.  He guessed he should consider himself lucky that he could dream about them at all, even if he only sees them in their final moments of life.

Bruce stood up and walked out of the room.  He knew a lot was going through his ward’s mind, and Dick would talk to him when he was ready.  Bruce found his way to the coffee and waited.

Dick came downstairs twenty minutes later, dressed and ready for the day.  He was still thinking about Bruce’s question, but more about Bruce’s story last night.  “Thanks, Bruce.  That actually helped.  And thanks for telling me what happened to you last night.  I know it was hard for you.  If you ever want to talk about it, I can try to help you, too.”

Bruce smiled at the offer, feeling somewhat comforted that Dick trusted him enough to make the offer.  “I might take you up on that someday.  So, what will today hold for us, young man?”

Dick looked straight ahead as he said, “The circus.  I feel I have to go.  Maybe it will help me to be in the same place where they…died.  Like last night seemed to help you.  It did help you, didn’t it?”

Bruce thought about it.  “I suppose it did.  Just so you know, this plan could hurt just as much as it helps.”

“I know, but it doesn’t matter.  We have to do it.”

Alfred walked in and regarded his children.  “And what is the topic for today, gentlemen?”

Dick smiled at the old man and piped up, “The circus.  Bruce is taking me today.  Are you going to come too, Alfie?”

Alfred shot Bruce a shocked look before responding, “Sorry child, but no.  I am not a big fan of wild animals in enclosed spaces, but don’t let that stop the two of you from having a good time.”

Bruce addressed the look without bothering to leave the room.  He felt that there should be no secrets between the three of them anymore.  “It’s his choice, Alfred, he wants to go.  We talked about it, and we both think that this will help him.”

“I see.  Please let me know before you leave.  I will be upstairs, changing the linens.”  Alfred walked out of the kitchen.

“Why doesn’t he seem happy, Bruce?”  Dick asked, puzzled.

Bruce decided to come clean.  “Dick, we actually found out about the circus yesterday.  I was trying to find the right way to tell you, but Mr. Bridger beat me to it.  Believe me, I was going to tell you after school, I just didn’t know how.  I was afraid that you would react, well, just how you did.  I didn’t want to be the one who caused you that pain.  Alfred didn’t hear any of our conversations yesterday or last night.  He just wants to protect you, too.  He didn’t know that the circus was your choice.”

“Oh.  Shouldn’t we tell him?”

“We did, it just may take a while for it to sink in.  We can’t hold it against him for wanting to protect you.”

“Ok.  Bruce, can we leave early and see the Midway?  I want to see if anything has changed.”

“Of course, chum.  Let’s go get ready to go.”

“ _I’m_ ready, Bruce.  You’re the one still in your bathrobe.”

Bruce smiled as he got up and tousled the boy’s hair, leaving to get ready for the circus.

An hour later, the two sat in the car as Bruce drove to the Gotham Festival Grounds.  It had been a silent ride, and Bruce noticed that Dick had something on his mind.  He figured it was just the thought of going back to his old circus that had the boy preoccupied.

Dick took a deep breath and glanced up at Bruce.  “Hey, Bruce?  Yesterday, when you brought me home from school and put me to bed, did I call you ‘dad’?”

“Yes, chum, you did.”

Dick stared intently at his hands, currently folded in his lap.  “Is…Is that okay?”

Bruce was startled.  “What do you mean?”

“That I called you ‘dad’.  I know, you have always told me that you are not my dad, and you can’t replace my parents, but you kinda are, and you kinda have.  I mean, I don’t think of you as my guardian.  You’re more than that to me.  So, if a ‘dad’ slips out every now and then, is that okay?”

“I’ll have to think about it, chum.  I never thought of myself as a ‘dad’ before.  It may take some getting used to.”  Bruce glanced at Dick and could see that was not the answer the boy wanted to hear.  He had stopped himself from calling Dick ‘son’ on several occasions, mostly because he didn’t know if he deserved to act as the boy’s father, or take their relationship to that level.  He had idly thought about formally adopting him several times, but even then, he had never thought about the titles.  _I guess it’s not really that bad, if it helps him out._

“If a ‘dad’ slips out on occasion, I don’t think that would be the worst thing in the world.  Just so long as you don’t flip out if an occasional ‘son’ slips out of me.  You are more than a ward to me, too.  Sometimes I can’t believe how much I care for you.  I didn’t think it possible, but it is.”

Dick’s face shone like the sun hearing Bruce say that.  “Are we a…a family now?”

“Sure, why not?  What’s another title?”  This is going to take some explaining to Alfred when I get home tonight.  He could see Dick running into the kitchen after the circus and yelling ‘Alfred, guess what, we’re a family now.  Isn’t that great?’  He could also see Alfred fainting, even though he could see the old butler being happy at the news.  _Has my little Bruce finally grown up?_

They pulled into the parking lot and walked to the Midway.  Bruce expected Dick to be looking everywhere at once and running all around, trying to show Bruce everything.  Instead, the boy hung by Bruce’s side, holding his hand.  “Are you okay, Dick?”

The boy replied nervously, “I grew up here, but I was never on this side of it.  I was always on the inside, in and out of all the tents, helping with the games, the animals.  I have never been to a circus as part of the audience.  It’s a bit…overwhelming.”

Bruce chuckled, then patted the young boy’s shoulder.  “It’s okay, chum.  I’m here if it gets too overwhelming.”  They walked on, not stopping at any of the booths.  “See anyone you recognize?”

“Not yet.  When I was here, most of the Midway people were local hires, just like the parking attendants and ticket takers.  Some traveled with us, but they never stuck around too long.  Let’s try to see the animals.  I wonder if they still keep them in the same spot.”

Bruce nodded, then said, “Even if they don’t, I think we can find them just by the smell.  What do you want to see?”

Dick smiled as he pointed to a large truck with a larger cage on a trailer behind it.  “The elephants.  I hope Bertha is still with the circus.”

Bertha, it turned out, was not the elephant tamer, as Bruce thought.  Bertha was a large female African elephant.  Dick ran up to the elephant, stopping just out of reach and far enough away to not spook the massive creature.  Bruce was worried about the reaction the animal would take, but was surprised when boy and beast just looked at each other, Bertha’s trunk reaching out to smell the child in front of her.  Dick smiled as Bertha took a step forward and placed her trunk on Dick’s shoulder.

“I guess it’s true: An Elephant Never Forgets.”  Bruce said as he approached the odd couple, staying far enough away to not be perceived as a threat.  Dick stroked the elephant’s trunk, thinking of all the hours he had spent with this animal while growing up.  He stayed until the elephant wrangler chased them from the paddock.  It was a new wrangler, one that hadn’t been with the circus when Dick was performing.  Dick sighed and walked away with Bruce.  Bruce looked back at the wrangler and noticed a black armband and wondered what that was all about.  The two made their way towards the circus tent to take their seats, the show was to start in moments.

Bruce had gotten them tickets in the first row surrounding the center ring of the three ring circus.  Soon the lights dimmed and the clowns were the first into the tent to start the show.  They jumped around, juggled, played pranks and pratfalls, and interacted with the audience.  One clown approached Bruce and made to spray him with the flower on his absurdly oversized and brightly colored jacket, when he looked at Dick and stopped.  The clown stood there for a second staring, like he should recognize the boy, but couldn’t place him.  He continued to spray a fine mist at Bruce and walked away, rejoining the show.  Dick couldn’t recognize the clown while in make-up, but thought he might once the costume came off.  He sat a little closer to Bruce, suddenly not feeling as comfortable as he had before.  Bruce placed an arm around Dick’s shoulders.  To anyone else in the crowd, it would just look like the child was afraid of clowns, a common enough fear.  Bruce, however, had noticed the same black armbands on the clowns as the elephant wrangler.

The clowns finished up their opening act and made to leave the tent, but instead of leaving, they gathered in one of the rings while other performers joined them, filling up the floor with what had to be the entire complement of circus performers.  Mr. Haly, overweight, but resplendently dressed in a ringmaster’s uniform and top hat, walked into the center ring and stood on a box to address the assembled performers and audience.  Dick started under Bruce’s protective arm.  Mr. Haly didn’t look like he had changed one bit.  To Dick, it could have been two days, not two years.

“Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, welcome to Haly’s Traveling Circus!  The greatest show you will have the privilege of seeing this year!  We have an outstanding performance lined up for you this evening, full of death-defying acts, hair-raising stunts, and the finest performers in the world.  But before all that, I want to take a moment and relate a little history to you fine folks.  As some of you may know, Haly’s Circus hasn’t been to Gotham City in two long years.  We always enjoyed coming here, but after our last trip, it didn’t seem right coming back.  You see, the last time we performed in Gotham City, we lost two of our very finest performers, and the circus world lost one of its best acts,” Dick stiffened and Bruce held him closer.  Neither had known this was going to happen, but the black armbands were now starting to make sense to Bruce.  _It’s a memorial,_ he thought.

“Our very own John and Mary Grayson were tragically killed when their line snapped during the performance, and the Flying Graysons unfortunately left their young son to grow up without his parents.  We heard that a very compassionate Gothamite took the boy in, and we couldn’t be more appreciative of that act of kindness.  Ladies and gentlemen, tonight is a very special performance.  It took a lot of deliberation and consensus throughout the entire circus to even have this show tonight.  Tonight marks the two-year anniversary of the death of our beloved Graysons, and tonight we perform in their honor, in the town that saw their tragic death, in front of the people who took in their son.”

Dick was sobbing at the old circus master’s words.  Bruce was close to tears, but was determined to hold it together for Dick’s sake.  Mr. Haly continued, “Now, I would like to take this opportunity to ask that you all rise and observe a moment of silence to honor our fallen family members.  You may be gone from us, but you will never be forgotten.”

The audience rose and bowed their heads.  Dick’s were not the only tear-filled eyes in the large tent.  After a few moments, Mr. Haly thanked the crowd, who began to sit down.  Dick remained standing.  Bruce watched his boy, not knowing what he was thinking.  Then, Dick ran out into the ring, towards Mr. Haly, as the older man was walking back towards the exit.  Dick ran ahead as a gasp escaped the crowd, and latched on to the overweight man, crying and repeating, “Thank you.  Thank you.”

Mr. Haly looked down, shocked, at the boy hugging him.  Then he looked again.  The child was familiar.  A little taller, a little older, maybe.  Realization hit him as the security guards and Bruce attempted to extricate Mr. Haly from the boy.  He ordered the guards to stop and knelt down before the child, thinking _it can’t be, it couldn’t be, could it?_

“Richard Grayson?  Little Dickie, is it really you?”  He caressed the boy’s face as Dick nodded and hugged the man again.  Whispers and murmurs broke out from the crowd as they wondered what was going on in the center ring.

After a minute, the two separated.  Mr. Haly held up the microphone and asked “Is it okay?”  Receiving a nod of approval from Dick and Bruce, Mr. Haly turned the microphone back on and returned to the center of the tent with Dick under his arm.  “Ladies and gentlemen, sorry for the unexpected interruption, but a wonderful thing has just happened!  I told you that a Gothamite took in the youngest Grayson after the tragic accident.  We never expected this, didn’t think it possible, but he is here, tonight.  After two long years, we are together again.  Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you, the boy who tonight’s performance is dedicated to- Dickie Grayson!”

Dick waved to the audience as a standing ovation erupted inside the tent.  Bruce stood off to the side, noticing how uncomfortable Dick looked.  They hadn’t expected any of this, no reason they should.

“Dickie, tonight’s show is in your honor, and to celebrate the lives of your parents.  I’m afraid there will be no trapeze act tonight, but we will do our best to entertain, for you and your parents.  Thank you, Gotham, for allowing this boy to thrive in your fair city.  And now, on with the show!”

Bruce shook Mr. Haly’s hand and pointed out where their seats were in the tent.  Mr. Haly asked them to stick around after the show as he walked them back to their seats.  They agreed, and the circus master got the performance back on track, encouraging the performers to do their best tonight.  The duo took their seats and several people behind Dick patted him on the shoulder, either congratulating or comforting him, Dick wasn’t sure which.  He didn’t really like it, but allowed it, believing that would be the easiest way to get it to stop the quickest.  Bruce noticed Dick’s discomfort, and placed his arm protectively around Dick again.  The gestures stopped, but eyes all around the tent were on Bruce and Dick as much as the performance. 

It was a great performance.  Dick was impressed with everything.  He had never been able to see a full performance from start to finish when he had been in the circus.  He found it entertaining, and could understand why his act had been such a big draw.  He could imagine himself, wiry little Dick Grayson, flying through the big top from trapeze to trapeze, his parents tossing and catching him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  Dick performing the acrobatics a life as a traveling performer had taught him, the same acrobatics he now used to help him combat goons and take out thugs.

After the performance, as Bruce had been expecting, a crowd began to form around Dick and Bruce.  Many wanted their picture taken with the surviving Grayson, some wanted to just touch him, or wish him luck in his new life.  Reporters began to gather and ask questions:  Where have you been?  Are you returning to the circus?  Can you still perform?  Why did you come tonight?  Is this the guy who adopted you?  Does he treat you well?  Bruce tried to shelter the boy, seeing it was too much for the emotionally compromised child.  Mr. Haly thought of that as well, and sent his performers out to form a human shield between the boy and the mob.  Mr. Haly took Bruce and Dick back to his trailer, where they could talk in peace, despite the complaints of the crowd and the media.

“Thank you for what you did tonight, Mr. Haly.  That was very special, both the performance and getting us away from the crowd,” Bruce thanked the man while shaking his hand.

When Bruce moved to make sure all of the windows were shut and the curtains were closed, Dick went and hugged the man again.  Memories came flooding back about how this man had always been like a second grandfather to him, much like Alfred is now.  He sat next to the man, staring at him, but unable to say anything.

Mr. Haly did the talking for him, while Bruce just sat back and watched.  “My god, Dickie Grayson, as I live and breathe!  I never thought I would see you again, boy.  You have grown so much.  Really starting to look like his father now, you know.  Just so you know, I was against performing here tonight.  I loved your parents, still do, but I just didn’t think it was the right way to honor them.  Having you here, tonight, changes my mind.  I can’t think of a better way to honor them now.”

Dick was finally able to find his voice, even though it was quiet, little more than a whisper.  “I think they would have loved it.  The circus looks great, just how I remember it.  I missed you, Mr. Haly.”

“I missed you too, child.”

“I loved it too.  The performance, I mean.  I wasn’t sure about how I would feel about it.  The last couple of days have been hard for me.  I didn’t find out you would be in town until yesterday.  Then it hit me, what today was.  I was hoping you wouldn’t say anything; that tonight would be just another performance.  When you started talking, I don’t know what came over me, I just had to go out and thank you.”

“I’m glad you did.  You’re welcome, Dickie.  Sure gave me a surprise, though.  Thought I was being attacked!  Almost didn’t recognize you out there.  I’m glad you could be here for this tonight.  It makes it worthwhile to be outvoted by the old guard, who are probably waiting to say hello to you.”

Bruce looked out of a curtained window at a throng of performers outside the trailer.  “He’s right, chum.  We seem to have drawn a crowd.”

Dick had forgotten that Bruce was even there.  “Are there any reporters out there?  I don’t want to talk to them.  I don’t think I can handle the questions.”

Bruce looked again, but Mr. Haly answered, “There better not be any reporters out there.  I gave strict instructions to clear them out.”

Bruce and Dick both smiled at the man.  “I think I will go out and talk to the press.  I’m sure they are still at the gates.  Don’t worry, Dick, you won’t have to see them.  I will just tell them that we will be releasing a written statement tomorrow and there will be no opportunity to question you.  As your guardian, I am not allowing questioning of an underage child.  I will even write the press release for you.  You just go and catch up with your old family.”  Bruce got up and left the trailer.  He had enough experience talking to the press that he knew his announcement would be enough to get the hounds away from Dick.

Bruce had been correct, there was still a flock of reporters at the gate.  He gave his speech, informed them how difficult the day was for the child and that he requested to be left alone.  The reporters grumbled, but accepted that the written statement was coming, even though they were sure it would be from a press agent and not from Dick.  Bruce went the extra step to collect all of the reporter’s business cards, ensuring they all had e-mail addresses on them, and stated that he would be sending out the statement personally to each reporter.  That got a better response, and the reporters left.

When Bruce returned to the trailer, Dick was in the center of a mass of people, every one of which seemed to have a story or memory of young Dickie Grayson.  His first time on a trapeze, the performance where he got to ride Bertha around the tent, his first performance, his debut as a clown.  However, in every story, there seemed to be some sadness.  After the performers had drifted away, to get some rest before the two shows tomorrow, Bruce and Dick sat down with Mr. Haly again.

“What does your schedule look like, Mr. Haly?  Is the circus busy this year?” Dick asked.

“I’m afraid not.  The last couple years have not been too good for us.  Attendance is down, and we just aren’t making the money we used to.  Your family was a big draw for us.  I haven’t wanted to get a new trapeze act, and it is hurting business.”

“Why don’t you want a new act, Mr. Haly?”  Dick tilted his head to the side and gave the circus master a look that brought back so many memories.

“I guess, well, no one can replace your parents.  I just don’t feel right, replacing them.”

Dick looked concerned, sat forward, and placed his hand on the older man’s arm.  “You have to get a new act, Mr. Haly, you just have to.  Whether my parents are dead or not, they would want you to have a trapeze act.  I want you to have a trapeze act.  If it helps the circus, then you have to do it.  If I could help you find an act, I would, but I wouldn’t know where to start.  Please, Mr. Haly, for the good of the circus.”  The young acrobat pleaded with the ringmaster.

The ringmaster chuckled, “Are you sure?  I loved your parents, I don’t want to tarnish their memory.”

Dick was insistent, “It’s not tarnishing their memory.  I think tarnishing their memory would be letting the circus fail because it hurt a little, a lot, to replace some performers.”

Bruce had never heard Dick speak this way.  He was sure Dick had never heard himself speak this way.  Again, he was proud of the boy for the way he was handling himself.  As exhausted and mentally drained as Dick had to be, he was still concerned about his old home and the first family he had ever known.

“Okay, Dickie, I’ll look into it,” Mr. Haly relented.

“Mr. Haly, I would like to help you with that search.”  Mr. Haly looked at Bruce, wondering what the man could do to help find circus performers.

“Oh?  How so?”

“I would like to make a donation to the circus, to fund the search and hiring of a new trapeze act, and possibly other circus-related activities, until such time as an act has been located.  They have to be good, though.  I want to get my money’s worth.  They have to be able to give the Flying Graysons a run for their money.”

Dick looked at Bruce in awe.  He didn’t expect Bruce to make such an offer, much as Bruce didn’t expect to make such an offer.

“I can’t do that, Mr. Wayne.”

“Yes you can.  Look at it this way.  I’m not giving Dick back.  Think of it as payment for bringing this ray of light into my life.  It makes him happy to know that Haly’s Circus is still around and successful.  Making him happy makes me happy, and I want to be happy.”

“No, Mr. Wayne.  The only way I could allow that would be for you to become a partner in the circus…”

“Done.  Except it will be a silent partnership, and it will be in Dick’s name, not mine.  You will still make all the decisions, and you can use Dick’s name in advertising the circus.”

“I would never exploit the child like that,” Mr. Haly said, shocked.

“Good.  Just think of it as someone buying a bunch of extra tickets for every performance.”

“That, I can work with.  Thank you Mr. Wayne, You may have just saved the circus.”

“I hope so, Mr. Haly, I hope so.  I will have a check sent over.  I want Dick to hear as soon as you find a new act.  It’s getting late, we should really be going.  Is that okay, Dick?”

Dick, amazed at what had just happened, stood and yawned unintentionally.  “Okay.  Thank you, Bruce.  This has been a good day after all.” 

“One more thing, Dickie.  Something I want to give you.”  Mr. Haly rummaged around in a trunk for a minute before carefully pulling out an old, small-sized poster.  The edges of the paper were starting to fray and the image was slightly faded, but the picture was still amazing to behold.

It was a poster for the Flying Grayson trapeze act.  John and Mary Grayson stood side by side, each with one arm raised, as if waving to a crowd.  In front of the couple stood young Dick, just as Bruce remembered him the first time he ever saw the lad, two years ago.  Even in the slightly faded picture, Dick’s smile shone brightly.  His parent’s non-raised hands laid on each of his shoulders, the picture of a happy family, just a family wearing tights that liked to swing on ropes and wires.

“This is great, Mr. Haly, thank you.”

“I only have a few left, so be careful with it.  Put it somewhere you can look at it often, and remember, you always have a family here.”

He hugged Mr. Haly again, then walked out with Bruce, holding the man’s hand all the way to the car.  They were followed by several good-byes and well wishes from the circus family.

Dick fell asleep in the car on the way home.  Bruce thought he had a lot to tell Alfred about earlier, now he might as well write a book about the evening.  Bruce then remembered he had to write a press release before tomorrow.  It wasn’t something he was looking forward to, but it would get Dick some more time away from the spotlight. 

As he pulled into the garage, he was wondering just how to tell Alfred that he was now sponsoring a circus.  Dick woke as the car came to a stop.  He wiped his eyes and followed Bruce blearily into the house. 

Alfred was waiting for them in the kitchen.  Dick gave the old butler a hug accompanied by a big yawn.  He showed the old man the poster, but soon was excusing himself to go to bed.

Bruce walked his child upstairs, marveling at the day they had.  He was pretty sure there would be no nightmares tonight, and told Dick so.  Dick smiled and replied that he thought Bruce was right.

The day had gone better than Bruce had thought.  _Jim was right, trust the boy to lead where he needs to go._

As Dick got into bed, he smiled up at Bruce, “Good night, dad, and thank you for today.  It was just what I needed.”

Bruce kissed the top of Dick’s head and hugged the boy, “Good night, son.”

 

**A/N:  Please don’t judge this one too harshly.  This is one of my earliest Batman fics.  I think my writing has improved greatly since this one, but I still like it.  Just my little take on the history of the Bruce/Dick dynamic.  Hope you like it.**

**Sorry for the addition of the corny line in Bruce’s story, but you can’t tell the origin story of Batman without adding Jack’s best line from the 1989 Batman.  No OOC, but maybe a little shark jumping.  (In the Batman universe, would that be Killer Croc jumping?)**

**Standard Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.**

 


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